


ONE OF THEM OR ONE OF US

by MaryLouLeach



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action, Bad American driver, Car Chases, Explosions, Family, Fires, Friendship, Gen, Hitmen, Hurt/Comfort, government agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryLouLeach/pseuds/MaryLouLeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What started out to be a normal day, well normal for Doctor Watson, quickly escalates from a plan for coffee and catching up with an old friend to shoot outs and car chases. He's forced to join a band of ex army vets gone freelance. Except their current target is a certain member of the British Government. "You're either one of them or one of us." John doesnt even have to think on the reply. No slashes sorry guys but lots of action and all that entails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE LIFE OF...

**CHAPTER 1. JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE LIFE**

How Doctor Watson got himself into this type of trouble is beyond him, the day had started out perfectly normal. Well normal by his standards, which would be far from normal by anyone else's standards. In all fairness he did live with the worlds only consulting detective. And said man was a genius mad man with a proclivity to dissecting body parts on the kitchen table. Therefore naturally it was just reasonable to keep these parts in the refrigerator sometimes next to the carrots and milk. Oh, and let's not forget the chemistry set equipped with deadly chemicals; _Really John what's the point in having one without the other._ So says the flat mate.

So why should John be surprised by the sudden turn of events of this day? He should by now after five mad years, well three in which he thought his flat mate was dead, still five years of living with Sherlock Holmes he should expect these things.

"Stupid John."

"What's that mate?" the man in the checkered shirt to John's side frowned.

"Oh, nothing just talking to myself. Don't mind me."

"Right, I'm really sorry about all this Captain, didn't have an idea this would go down."

"Oh, it's alright. It's not like I had planned on working today." Which was the exact opposite but he wouldn't let this lot know. Instead he needed to figure how the hell he was going to get out of this, without drawing attention.

"So what did you say you were in town for?" John winced as the black van he was currently in the back of, made a sharp turn shoving him and two other men. into the hard side as well as each other.

"Business. Thought I'd look you up. I heard you were a locum Doctor. Had to see it for myself. This must be an exciting change in pace, right Captain. Get your adrenaline going." The dark haired man in a pair of beige khakis and a buttoned up checkered shirt elbowed him. John gave a tight smile.

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Are you sure we should be bringin him along, looks like a fuckin square to me." One of the younger men glared suspiciously at John, oh the stupidity of youth. John looked the kid in the black hoodie up and down, the chain to his dog tags visible before disappearing behind the dark material. In a hoodie the kid looked just that, so impossibly young. How old could he be twenty five, twenty six. John only mouthed the word square to himself, really, this kid was an idiot.

"Shut it Morgan! This is one of the best men I know, highly capable under fire, wouldn't want any other man watching my back in the middle of a gun fight. That and he's a doctor on top of being a crack shot, makes him more valuable then the likes of you."

"Look, you boys obviously have something going on, feel free to drop me off at the next corner." John tried to not sound desperate instead he came off irritable.

"Can't sir." The Driver slammed on the breaks and then slammed the van into reverse, more squealing tires and gun shots.

"Keep left you idiot!" Morgan shouted. "Fuckin Americans, drive on the left side of the road you're going to fuckin kill us in this traffic!"

John didn't dare turn around he didn't care to see the end coming.

"Fuck off _Morganna_ you cry baby. I'm throwing them off! But if you want to take the wheel go for it, asshat." The American in the front seat snarled jerking the wheel left then right, pushing the occupants in the back from side to side in a jumble of arms an legs. John managed to straighten up moving to the corner of the van, now slowing to a decent speed.

"Did he just say asshat?" John shook his head, well this wasn't going to be good.

"Don't mind him. We hired him out of Afghanistan, he's got a funny way of saying things but he's useful as the wheelman. He goes by Tanner he was army. That's Morgan ex royal navy, and the quiet lad there with the glasses is Foreman he's our communications officer. Or rather he was." John frowned seeing the younger kid lying motionless and still. He'd been shot before John was forced into the van, the doctor had only moved to close the boys eyes, nothing you can do for a bullet to the head.

"We're gonna have to to ditch the van." The wheelman stated swerving around another slow moving car.

"Fine, you know the contingency plan. I can't believe you boys fucked this up." Franks sighed irritably.

"Hey! It wasn't me, look at your boys there. Morgan thought you were being followed-" John wished the American would keep his eyes on the road instead of turning around to reassign blame.

"Which I was right!" the navy man snapped then looking darkly from Doctor Watson to the boss. "You were being followed by British Agents. Sparky there pulled the files from face recognition. They work for our hostage. Directly. He only jumped out of the van because he said something about you being too close to danger. I tried to ask what the hell he was talking about, that's when they started shooting. I pulled him into the van we rounded the corner and picked up you lot. I did advise we should just get the hell out while we had the target secure."

"We are sitting on him until the Bishop gives us our orders."

"I don't like it. We usually drop merchandise and go. This ones a big fish and we aren't used to running against these types of sharks." The younger man looked out the back window nervously.

"What's going on? I thought you were into security." John needed more data, yes he sounded like Sherlock but in these types of situations it was useful to think like the human computer. Well as much as he, John a mere mortal could.

"Well sort of." His old army friend a Captain Louis Franks smiled sheepishly.

"Alright boss we're here let's get into the other vehicle." The American was hopping down.

"What about Foreman?" The navy kid paused to John's surprise his old friend didn't look back.

"Leave him. Dumb kid. We don't have time bury him or ditch the body. Grab his tags and wallet anything of identifying. I'm burning the van." Morgan did as he was told without hesitation but John could see he wasn't happy with it.


	2. NOT GOOD

**CHAPTER 2. NOT GOOD  
**

To John's horror his old friend produced a gas can out of thin air. They were parked in some field where a black car with tinted windows was hidden in the high grass. The sweeping whoosh of a fire igniting brought John's attention back to the van.

"Come on boys, they weren't to far behind and that fire's gonna attract the mibs like black flies to a dead cow."

"Mibs?" John couldn't help but ask. The wheelman maybe mid thirties, dark hair cut short, military to the core, he also wore a black Hoodie and beige khakis. His green eyes focused on John, "Men in black."

"The movie?" John was too old for this.

"For fucks sake let's stop with the knitting circle and get moving." Morgan growled.

"He's always that testy. Navy men." The American scoffed.

"Look Franks, it's been great seeing you again catching up, but I kind of expected us to have coffee and go our separate ways until you were in town again for a pint. But this-" John ran a hand over the back of his head.

"I know Watson, I know. It's a lot. But it's not so much a loss. I do have an opening on the team. The money is good and we could use a Doctor and a good military man." John could see the tension in the other two men, he looked back at the burning van knowing if he said no he would be joining Foreman.

"Well it's been a bit boring lately. How good is this money?" His friend laughed and hugged him, John was very aware that his old friend had a hand to the 9mm protruding from the back of his waistband, and now he was relieved. John knew he'd played the right card.

"We'll discuss the details. First we have to check on his majesty ourselves."

"I should give Harry a quick text." John tried to think quickly. "Yeah, we'll get you a new mobile you'll have to toss that one. Can't chance being tracked." John allowed Franks to take his mobile out of his hand; he could see already several texts from Sherlock. Franks tossed the phone now ringing towards the burning fire.

The drive seemed like miles until they finally exchanged cars again. John was sure to leave his hospital name badge in the seat. Hoping Sherlock would find it.

"Where exactly are we off to?"

"You'll see." The wheelman grinned. The next car was gray and one of those high performance sports cars. John didn't care to be squished into the back next to a scowling Morgan.

"You European boys sure do know how to make some fast cars. Nothing like the Charger I have at home but it will do. Now a Charger that's a-"

"You know the engine size usually means you're compensating-" Morgan started to snigger.

"Then I suppose you drive a big rig." John held back a laugh, thankfully Morgan didn't notice.

"Piss off Tanner!" Morgan snarled.

"Boys! Not now we're nearly there. Once we are inside no talking in that room. You know the orders. Boss says this one has a way of picking up on small details. We lost thirteen of our own just getting to him."

"Fourteen if you count Foreman." Morgan added in a unconcerned tone, but John knew he felt the opposite.

John then realized they were talking about a kidnap victim, of course they were. Pulling up to the abandoned farmhouse with a small shop in the corner the men got out, Tanner covered the car with a tarp. John could see no other vehicles. He sensed they were being watched, after years of being under surveillance of the British Government the ex army doctor spotted the camera's easily.

"This way Watson." Franks directed John through the heavy metal doors of the shop, and John realized there was more to this place especially when he was lead down into a trap door, feeling a bit claustrophobic he descended into a narrow corridor, several florescent bulbs hummed overhead.

The corridor opened into a larger room with three other corridors connected, several crates were labeled "Flammable" and John didn't dare ask what could possible be in them. Handle with care was marked in several languages on the side.

"Who's this?" Someone growled meeting the four. "Where's Sparky?"

"This is his replacement. He's an old friend and a Doctor." The older man in the black t-shirt and guns holstered just under his arms. Eyed John, suspiciously.

"Don't look like much."

"I get that a lot." John replied with a smile.

"Don't worry about him. I vouched for him. Now how's the prisoner?"

"He might need a Doctor, and his little assistant is still knocked out." John didn't like the sound of all this.

"Well you're in luck. Lead the way." he gave another polite smile.

"You heard him. If that posh bloke dies we are out of money and in the Bishops debt and you and I know what he does to debtors."

The other man sighed, "Fine, on your head be it." John made his way down another corridor. The door was open, a man in a very familiar gray suit an expensive gray suit, and ever more familiar silk blue and gold tie. John recognized it, he had after all gifted it to the man for the gentleman's birthday.

It wasn't expensive but it hadn't been cheap, he could see blood staining the shoulder, he moved to pull the bag off the man's head, his heart was in his throat and he found it hard to swallow. He realized no matter how bad his day was going, this man's day on a scale of bad was defiantly worse. And beyond a bit not good.


	3. LOYALTY LIES

 

**CHAPTER 3. LOYALTY LIES**

"Everyone out!" Franks orders in his Captain's tone. "Don't speak at all, he's a trickster. Try to stay out of his line of sight."

John turned to his friend. "I'm not easy identifiable, I'm no one. So no worries. Just get me a first aid kit." Franks nodded.

"Fine, but he stays tied."

"I might need to sew that up. Has anyone looked at it?" Franks looked shamefaced.

"Don't untie him until I get back, I don't know who authorized a shooting. And I'll be taking this out of their cut."

John waited, steady hands pulled the black sack from the injured man's head.

John didn't know what to expect, maybe an unconscious Mycroft, bruised, bleeding pale. Not a sharp eyed glaring Mycroft, a very surprised sharp eyed glaring Mycroft. How did the man still look like a king on his throne? Bleeding from his shoulder, in a disheveled suit and a gash just over his right eye just forming a nice shade of green and violet.

"I'm a Doctor, sir. I'm here to tend to that wound. Don't try anything funny my friends are still outside. I just got this job don't want to lose it just yet."

"How does one come about this kind of work, Doctor?" Mycroft growled trying to shift into a comfortable position.

"One falls into it." John leaned closer looking as if examining the man's shoulder closer, he kept his voice low. "I'll think of something."

"John how are you here?"

"You wouldn't believe it. But it started out with meeting an old army buddy and going for a cuppa, then it's all gun fights and get away cars driven by an American who keeps forgetting what country he is in."

Mycroft's tension eased, that had been John's goal, the man was entirely too pale, he had lost some blood and the bullet would need to come out.

"My PA. is she?" Mycroft's eyes held an expression that John recognized as concern, but it usually had been reserved for the British Government's dealings with his younger brother.

"I don't know yet, they'll take me to her after you 're helped. They are holding you for some guy named Bishop?" Mycroft's jaw clinched. "Oh, I see a friend of yours."

"Hardly. Are you here with Sherlock?" John shook his head.

"Nope, like I said this is entirely unexpected."

"A happy accident then."

"We'll get out of here, all of us. How the hell did you get here anyway. We thought you were in Germany meeting with-" John rolled his eyes.

"How long before they tell your brother you went missing."

"They wont." Mycroft replied.

"What, wont? Or can't?" John was feeling Mycroft's ribs the man winced, fractures definitely. "Sorry, I have to inventory the damage. Answer the question." Both men kept their voices low.

"The wont tell him I'm missing. Protocols are put in place for these kinds of incidents." John froze feeling a cold chill run up his spine.

"You mean they'll say you're dead?" Mycroft clasped his eyes shut and nodded.

"Dizzy? Headache? nausea?" John's hands checked over Mycroft's neck and the back of the man's head.

"It's bloody cold in here and I can't feel my wrists." John didn't feel a fever but it didn't mean there wasn't an infection, only that it hadn't pronounced itself just yet, that or shock.

The door swung open and Franks was carrying a first aid kit looking irritably. "I had to take all sharp objects out. Is he going to live?"

"I have to get the bullet out. I might need those sharp tools and maybe something to knock him out."

"No deal he stays awake." Franks replied.

"You can't-"

"There is no room for concern John, he's a payout. That's all."

"Yes. I'm not worried about the bastard. I don't particularly care for rich arseholes. However, if we are going to get paid. Let me do my part. He'll go into shock from the pain and he might cause me to nick something if he squirms no matter how you hold him down. So, maybe some chloroform? Something."

"Alright. What else?"

"Antibiotics. I thought you said he was dangerous. He doesn't look scary to me."

"If you only knew." his friend replied.

"Well I'm going to need to untie him. He doesn't look like much of a flight risk, infection will set in soon and he'll be riddled with a fever." John shrugged as if he didn't care either way. "So however you want to play this you're the Captain, Captain." His friend narrowed his eyes on British Government who only met his gaze with an icy stare.

"I'll get the supplies untie the bastard." Then he looked at the British Government. "No funny stuff Gov or I'll put a bullet in your leg. Or better yet in that pretty little assistant of yours." John hoped the stiffening of his shoulders went unnoticed, but Mycroft cast him a quick glance, one that said to maintain neutrality.

"Where is she?" Mycroft winced as John released his wrists. More blood started to soak through the material of his Jacket from the slow stiff movements. John could see Mycroft attempting to hold the pain in, but he knew what it felt like to be shot in the shoulder, thankfully this was a smaller caliber bullet.

"Resting." John didn't like the thought of the usually quiet PA being pushed around by one of these bullies. "You're both in good hands. Don't try to bribe this man Gov. Cause he's loyal to his friends, probably the last man I know that can't be bought." He patted John's left shoulder roughly, John winced.

"Yes, he does look the type. Loyal to a fault I would say. Doesn't trust easily. Hopelessly patient, honest, a proficient marksmen. One would be lucky to have such a man on his side and call him friend. And a Locum doctor as well. You must be needing the money Doctor."

John rummaged through the first aid kit, his head snapping up in feigned surprise, well he didn't have to really fake it to badly, Mycroft sounded serious, but he couldn't be. John was just Sherlock's flat mate, and the British Government only put up with him for that reason. John still considered Mycroft a friend even if the British Government didn't believe in such things.

"What the hell?" John turned to his _friend_. "How-"

"Creepy isn't it. He can look right through you and tell you a measure of a man. A load of shite I say. He's nothing but another pencil pusher. One of the guys that pushes buttons, and moves soldiers like pieces on some game board. What would he know." Franks drew back to punch the older man in the face but John was quick his instincts reacting before he could think.

"No, he's already lost enough blood, a little jolt like that no matter how restrained will cause him to bleed more and I don't know until I get in there, if the damage is pinching off any important veins." Mycroft could see that John's acting skills had improved over the years, he of course learning from the best.

"Good man Captain. Good man, that's why I liked you. Thinking ahead." Franks bought the explanation John had been holding his breath releasing the wrist he could see where his hand had left marks. "Always a cool head. I'll be back with what you need, you'll have to preform this surgery on that cot there, we don't really have much in operating room supplies."

"I've had worse conditions."

"Here take this. Don't let him trick you with his manipulative words." John accepted the 9mm, John gave an easy smile and nodded.

"I'll be fine. Just hurry back, don't want to spend more time then I have to with the old codger."

"Codger?" Mycroft lifted an eyebrow, John only shrugged.

"I see your new friends are a bad influence on you Doctor." John gently pealed Mycroft's gray suit jacket from his shoulders, well as gently as he could under the circumstances.

"They aren't my friends Mycroft." John's sky blue eyes held the grayish blue of the governments, sure to make his point. " ** _We are_ ** going to get out of this somehow." John said the last part lower as if to himself.


	4. LOYALIST

**CHAPTER 4. LOYALIST**

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson was calling up the stairs, receiving no answer she hurried up the steps, well as fast as a bad hip would allow. "Sherlock dear!" The young man was lying sprawled on the couch his hands under his chin, eyes wide. A million miles away, or rather a million miles buried in his mind palace.

"Mrs. Hudson, have you heard from John? I've tried calling him after several of my texts went unanswered?"

"He did say he was meeting with an old army friend for coffee." She took a deep breath a hand on her hip. "That's not important right now."

"Oh, normally I would agree with you. But he did promise to pick up the hand from Molly by two and it's already three. The carrier Molly would have stored it in wont last much longer and the flesh will soften and decay, it will be of no use to my experiment in conclusion it is vital I-"

"My dear boy have you heard from your brother?" Sherlock's eyebrow shot straight up.

"No, why would-"

"Didn't he say he was going to Germany for some peace summit or Switzerland?"

"Mrs. Hudson how should I know I delete everything Mycroft says as soon as it leaves his cake stained mouth."

The older woman ignored the younger man she switched on the small telly and found the channel that was reporting.

Sherlock shrugged it was a plane crash so, why would that affect-he read the words under the reporter the ones flowing like a dark ribbon pulled across the surface.

"Government plane went down due to bird strike over the Alps." Sherlock tuned out all surrounding noise and concentrated on the reporter's words and the plain wreckage flashing across the blue screen she was in front of.

He took his phone in hand and dialed hit the speed dial for his brother. Not that he was worried of course he wasn't worried. No answer, it went straight to voicemail. So Sherlock tried his PA, the same, he texted his brother and started to call his brother's office.

"Sherlock there is a gentleman here to see you." Sherlock hadn't even heard the doorbell or Mrs. Hudson's staggered footsteps to answer. And now two men in black suits, were in his flat. Sherlock could deduce their habits, one none smoker one heavy drinker. Both men wore their dark hair identically short, removing their dark glasses Mrs. Hudson offered them a seat but they declined.

"Sherlock Holmes?" The heavy drinker, sober for work it was on his nights off he fell asleep holding a bottle, was speaking.

"Sherlock Holmes I am Mr. Hill and this is Mr. Sommers. We regret to inform you-" Sherlock just stood there, eyes narrowing, ignoring the words but picking up their facial features. They weren't lying, there was no deception in these cronies. They in fact loathed this duty, and he wasn't the only family they would be notifying that day.

It was true then, but it couldn't be, Mycroft was indestructible they obviously were misinformed.

"-plane went down over the Alps." Were the next words to interrupt his thoughts. "Your brother and several members of staff-" Sherlock narrowed his eyes now.

"Get out." He growled.

"Sherlock-" Mrs. Hudson tried to put a hand on his arm, he was still clad in his blue silk robe. A gift from his brother years ago, was it a birthday present? It was when he had left rehab the third time or was it fourth?

"I said get out! All of you!" the men nodded and Mrs. Hudson worriedly shooed them out. The younger Holmes had to think, he needed to redirect these feelings starting to push at the doors of his mind palace. To many people in the room it was disorientating, threatened to overwhelm.

Mechanically he tossed the robe aside, this was distracting him. He went to change into something less off-putting, something had to be done. John where was John? He could easily label these emotions this toxic wave of sentiment, if he could label it then it would be easier to put away to shut behind the doors of logic. John would know how to help, he always knew what to say to everyone else, why not him, why couldn't he ease this weight.

"I'll be down stairs when- if you-" Mrs. Hudson paused at the door indecisive not knowing if it were better to stay or go, finally deciding on going.

"I wont!" he snarled and tried to call John once more no answer. In his frustration he flung his phone at the telly cracking the screen, it switched off with a puff of smoke and a spark.

"Birds?" he shook his head "Birds?" Mycroft couldn't be. This was a mistake, how often had he flown over the Alps on business? Millions? This wasn't right. Where was John? He would think so too, he would know how.

There was a knock on the door, "Go away!" he snapped, continuing to pace.

"Mr. Holmes sir I have your take away order."

"Piss off! I didn't order take away."

"Mr. Holmes-" The man at the door was insistent.

"I said! GO! AW-" Sherlock threw open the door only to be shoved back nearly falling over. "What the-"

"Shut it sir!" the man in jeans and red hoodie, wearing an Angelo's delivery hat, he was wearing thin spectacles and a pair of large black and red Denon headphones cradled the back of his neck. He appeared to be a teenage delivery boy, he tossed the bag of takeaway behind the door, locking it. He pulled his hat off, moving to the window he carefully peaked out. His shoulders relaxing.

"Thomson?" Sherlock scanned the young man's face, he knew him, he was one of Mycroft's junior security staff.

"They were here right, to tell you?" Sherlock didn't reply, the young man was looking around as if expecting someone else to be there.

"Good. They wont be back. I take it you threw them out?" still no reply. "I'm surprised you remember my name. I'll be quick. Wait where's Doctor Watson? Uh, you can brief him later."

"What's this about?"

"The boss it's about the boss, he's not dead."

"What?" Sherlock felt sick, why would this news make his legs feel like they were made of jelly?

"He's not. The official report it says the plane went down three days ago. Funny because Mr. Holmes's PA texted Edwards and Me to make arrangements."

"Arrangements?"

"Yes, she wanted the car ready, and would be taking the Boss home instead of the Diogenes. It's not uncommon to change plans. And agent A."  
"Agent A?"

"Yeah, the PA."  
"How original."  
"Yeah, well she changes numbers like a woman does shoes. Except I received a text on the line we use only for the contact with Agent A, two hours and a day after the plane supposedly went down. I've tried calling but it goes to voice mail. I hid the phone and removed the battery it's likely no one knows of it's existence. That's not all, they've reassigned Edwards and I, we are to be on a train to the Swiss office to be on security detail for some pencil pusher by the name of Fritts. He's going to be acting in Mycroft's stead."

"You think this Fritts has something to do with this? Based on what?" Sherlock had to think logically, clinging to false hope was childish, he could be clutching at straws.

"I'm just security but we tend to hear everything. I know Fritts is a spineless rat faced bastard. He's been pushing some kind of outsourcing plan and Mycroft managed to have it shot down. Not just all of that but there are other things. They switched out the Boss's security detail before he left. Claimed some internal threat but some of us have worked for the boss since we started. The older boys are accepting the change but Edwards, and three others aren't so sure."

"You're certain. This text?" Sherlock could read nothing deceptive about the young security guard; well not so young he wasn't that much younger than himself. "That's not all. One of the guys, he also had a text from Mycroft's PA he knows she's alive."

"How?" Thomson nervously glanced out the window.

"I can't stay long they'll think something is up if they're watching."

"Then be quick." Sherlock snapped.

"We were on high alert due to the fact some group of mercenaries for hire arrived in London. Shortly after the Boss was due back. I know their plane touched down in London. These mercenaries we have little on them, but it's because their damn files are closed secure. One of our guys radioed in they had eyes on them they were in town he hasn't reported back. And I went to check the computer files today and there is nothing in our computers not even a prompt for a high security clearance password, no files at all. Just like they never existed. I have to go I've staid to long. Just-please be careful. Your security detail was pulled as well."

"I want that phone." Sherlock replied, he had remained absolutely quiet uncharacteristically so. "I want to talk to the other agents."

"Fine, sir. I can have a car meet you somewhere discreet. You will have our full cooperation. I just-I just hope it's not too late."

"No worries Thomson, we'll find him. And those responsible. If you'll excuse me I need to make some calls." Sherlock patted his pocket where was his phone?

"I'll be in touch sir." Thomson hurried out the door, Sherlock watched him place his headphones on and start down the street. The dark haired detective observed the black car that had been parked outside for the past couple hours waited exactly ten minutes before pulling out and heading in the same direction as the supposed delivery boy.

Sherlock pulled John's browning out from the desk drawer, checked the magazine, picked his discarded mobile up from the floor. Mycroft had gifted him a water proof and nearly indestructible phone for his birthday last year. Sherlock squeezed it angrily pulling his coat then scarf on and headed out. He would get the answers he wanted, no matter what.


	5. do no harm

**CHAPTER 5. DO NO HARM**

John's eyes made contact with the older Holmes's gray, before holding the rag soaked in chloroform over the British Government's mouth and nose. "I'll be quick." He promised, and in return he received a quick nod.

John thought it was all very crude the tools he was given, but he dared not draw attention to himself. He worked quickly and sealing up the wound, grateful not much more blood was lost. He had demanded another blanket for the prisoner, stating that he would need to keep his strength to hold off infection. No one questioned that, Mycroft was their meal ticket after all.

"God work Captain." Franks patted John's uninjured shoulder.

"Now what about the other one?" John asked washing his hands once more at a small sink just inside what looked like the lounge, equipped with amenities, a table a large flat screen telly and a small card table.

"Yeah, she might be coming round, but I wouldn't put too much work into her. We don't know if she'll be alive for long. Bishop hasn't said what to do with her yet."

John kept his face completely blank. "I did go in she was still knocked out. What was it you gave her?"

"Oh, it was one of Toby's concoctions. She should be coming around soon. Right Toby?"

"Yeah, boss she should. You gonna let us have a talk with her?"

"I say we-" Tanner was interrupting now,

"Oh shut it Tanner we know what you'll say. You just want to let her go her merry little way."

"I'm not into killing woman. What next?" The American squared up on the tall thin dark haired Toby. "Children?"

"Nonetheless, I should take a look on her health. She might be worth something."

"Boss theirs a call." Morgan popped his head into the room.

John took a seat at the small round table in the corner, the other two plopped down in front of the big screen telly. Morgan moved to get himself something to eat. John tried to figure out what he would do, how the hell was he going to get them out of this. And how long until these guys found out who he was. Just one background check, hell googling his name would bring up his blog or Sherlock's name.

"Bishop says she's baggage. He wants us to cut her loose." Franks had returned almost immediately. Tanner shook his head in disgust.

"She's just a woman. I say we just-"

"Yeah, Tanner you coward we know were you stand. Do you want us to give her a spot of tea and a basket of biscuits send her out the backdoor to grans house?" Morgan growled.

"I already said I'd kill her, but I just wanted to spend some time talking to her first." Toby interjected making John feel like he was going to be sick.

"And I said I want to be the one to do it, her boss is the reason Foreman's dead. If I can't kill him I want to kill her." Morgan was on his feet going glare for glare with Toby.

"For gods sake, give me the gun I'll do it." John put his hand out to Franks. Toby and Morgan both shot him a cold look.

"Boss just give me an hour."

"We don't have time Toby! We are moving out in an hour. We had to waste the time to pull a bullet out of the prisoners shoulder. A bullet you put there!"

"Then let me do it." Morgan growled.

"No you will only make a mess of things." Toby shoved the navy man.

"Not like she has to be identifiable." Morgan shoved back. Now John really did feel sick, sick and angry.

"Let these two argue, if it has to be done and quick I'll do it."

John didn't know what his plan was, he at this point was winging it. Maybe he'd give her the gun say she overpowered him.

"Fine, then you bury her!" Morgan snapped, "Because I won't help."

"Good. Tanner go with John out back to the field make it quick, and make the hole deep. We don't want her found too soon."

John formed an idea by the time he reached the door.

"Listen Tanner, I completely see your point. Hey I have a sister. I had a mum once."

"Yeah, me too. And she raised me right, well rightish. This makes me a little-" John gave sympathetic smile.

"Tell you what mate, help me get her outside and I'll do the work. I'll shoot her and bury the body you can just wait here." The other man who had turned a shade of green looked at John suspiciously now.

"You aren't like that Toby?" John shook his head.

"Far from it. It's nothing new to me, I've seen bodies, men, women and children in war and at home. Doesn't affect me anymore. " A lie, it always did, especially on restless nights. John patted the other mans arm reassuringly.

"Alright. Fine Doc."

John entered the room he gave a shake of his head "Alright miss no funny stuff my friends are right outside and they are all armed." She watched him now, he could feel her looking right through him, trying to read between the lines.

"Come on." John took her arm, aiming his gun at her, she was still unsteady on her bare feet. He noted her black skirt suit was dirty and the jacket was torn and bloody at the elbow. "Trust me." John lead her out of the cell and towards the exit.

"Tanner! You do it. Morgan growled, I need to talk to Watson."

John met the American's eyes, he felt the PA stiffen when the other man grabbed her arms, still bound behind her back.

John was about to panic as the two disappeared outside.

"Hey, I know how it works in these types of situations." John quickly started. "I have to prove myself to these animals. And by killing her, I'll have earned my place. So could we talk later?"

"You're right. Go one then. I'll talk to you when you get back."

John sprinted the weapon in his hand. The taller American seemed nice enough but he wasn't going to let this happen. From the look of it Mycroft's PA had already managed to break the American's nose he was holding a hand to it and he swore angrily holding his own gun up. John was behind him now. "Don't!" He panted, out of breath his heart threatening to pound a hole in his chest.

Tanner turned around, "What the hell?"

"Drop the damn weapon!"

"Who the hell are you?" the other man's voice was muffled.

John inched around the taller man, standing near the brunette PA.

"Sorry." He said without taking his eyes off the American.

"I figured you would be around. Soon enough." The PA replied coolly.

"Are you fuckin serious! This can't be happening! And she broke my nose." John made a face " Well this is awkward. Looks like we got our wires crossed there. Listen. I'm working with the CIA."

"Figures." The PA snorted.

"Now come on sweetheart. Don't be that way. I'd have made it quick."

"I'll gladly return the favor." The brunette snapped irritably.

"Who the hell are you? You're about to fuck up my operation." The taller man hissed.

"Your operation?" John could feel a headache coming on not to mention the last time he had dealings with the American CIA hadn't ended well.

"Yeah. I've been working this gig for two years now. It's not easy getting in with these douche bags. But here I am. And you're fucking it up. So I'll ask again who are you?"

" You know who they have in there?" John motioned to the shed, in a voice heavy with accusation.

"Yeah. Mycroft Holmes the one and only. Not so untouchable is he?" The PA started forward, John pulled her back.

"The last time that man's brother ran into your lot he threw one of your men out the window after pummeling him, only to bring him back up the stairs and out the window again. That happened several times before the Yard turned up to take him into custody. Now that was over the idiots threatening his landlady. Just think what he's going to do when he finds out you have his brother."

"Yeah I heard about that. A little harsh don't you think? Now what say you huh? Let's talk this out like two civilized people do right? _Mate_?" John didn't care for the mock accent on the word mate. He only pulled the keys from his pocket.

"Here, courtesy of our colonial cousin." He handed them to the PA

"Awe you bastard you stole those right from me. I had them in my pocket!"

"You were being annoying." John replied.

"You have no idea what you're doing if you let her go. You'll ruin this whole thing!"

"Yeah, well it isn't exactly the _rightish_ thing to do keeping them here. That man in there is a high ranking official of the British Government."

"Hey I had no part in that. I have no obligation to your government. I'm here on a mission and-"

"Shut it. I've heard it all. And in the meantime you'll let a good man and woman die? "

"What are two lives at a cost of millions? Of war?"

"If you take a step closer I'll shoot you. I'll do it." cold and steady this was a statement.

"What! You're serious?"

"Like you said what's one life over two? Like the math I just did there?"

"What kind of agent are you?"

"I'm not. I don't work for anyone. I'm a Doctor. I'm not in the business of taking lives but the soldier in me understands the rationale of it. So test me. I dare you."

The American shook his head, "Wait wait, John. The captain called you John."

"So-"

"You're _the Doctor._ You? I expected someone-well taller." John held his breath and counted to ten. "But here you are. John Watson Doctor and flatmate."

"Don't forget a good friend and family Doctor to Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes."

"I've heard about your adventures doctor. Can't say I'm not impressed. Never thought we'd cross paths." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe we can work out a deal."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." John snapped, pulling the slide back, his weapon chambered.

"Woah woah! Wait. We can help each other." The CIA agent held his hands up in surrender.

"I don't know if I like your idea of help. I don't take it to kindly when someone threatens my friends. Moran tried that it didn't end well for him, and I knew him. Think what I could do to you, a complete stranger."

"Alright, alright. I get it. I get. How if I said I knew how to get the PA out alive?"

"Go on."

"First you have to understand Bishop works for their department. He wants Mycroft out of the way so Lord Fritts can take Mycroft's place. If he does that he'll have better control over his cousin Fritts where as Mycroft was constantly shutting him down. So Bishop and Fritts know Mycroft Holmes isn't dead. Looks like they'll be selling him to the highest bidder. If _she_ turns up alive at her offices then they'll know someone is on the inside a little digging and there you are Sherlock Holmes's noble blogger. And bang your dead. These boys don't play around. When it comes to power and chairs. I'd go for a bullet to the head, or a car bomb any day over the type of backroom coups you British boys pull off. I could care less about your politics unless my bosses tell me too of course. But I do care about getting Bishops contact. He's arming several terrorist cells planning attacks on American soldiers and citizens. I need to know where he's keeping them. You're a soldier and a doctor neither sides of that coin can accept the massacre of innocent people. You want that on your conscience? "

"I'm listening." John replied holding his weapon ready.

John looked down at the PA she maintained and expressionless look, she wasn't much for words but even in a disheveled skirt suit and shoeless she managed to come off authoritative.

"At this point having an alley would be favorable and to our advantage. Doctor Watson." She offered, her eyes coolly meeting the green of the dark haired CIA Agent, John lowered his weapon slowly.

"Don't think for once I wont hesitate to kill you if you're lying." The Doctor added casually, but the ice was there in his blue eyes.

"I wouldn't doubt you friend, I wouldn't doubt it. Same goes for me. Don't get in my way. Now let's get the secretary out of here."

"This secretary just broke your nose Mr. Tanner. I am not above breaking you're arm."

"Right. Whatever sweetheart you caught me off guard and I don't make it a choice to hit women. So, here's the deal. " He glared at her, "lay low in the grass till we leave, then take the car with the tarp over it. It's not safe to head back to your offices. There's a GPS that will get you to the nearest town, so I hope you can figure something out because like I said if Bishop catches wind I lose my chance at contact and I wont be happy."


	6. advance and withdrawl

**CHAPTER 6. ADVANCE AND WITHDRAWL**

John had been wholly surprised by the fact that they were picked up by helicopter. "You boy's spare no expenses." John marveled at the military grade helicopter. His friend only shrugged in response. John however positioned himself between Mycroft and the others. His excuse was to take care of any medical needs. He didn't attempt to communicate with Mycroft, not wanting to draw suspicion.

John wasn't comfortable with the fact they were flying to some undisclosed location, he prayed it was at least still in England. Happily they landed near some old shipping docs.

"Get him up, and follow me." Franks ordered. John helped a still groggy Mycroft to his feet, checking his temperature, it wasn't any worse but he couldn't tell without a thermometer. Once the group dismounted the helicopter was off again.

The mercenaries and their prisoner came to a docking warehouse, from what John could see it was closed for the day, or maybe this Bishop bloke owned it and kept it for appearances.

"John after you deposit his Lordship, I need to have that word." John nodded he redressed Mycroft's wound, taking care that he gave the older Holmes a shot of antibiotics. "Let me know if you start feeling the chills or body aches." Mycroft nodded his eyes scanning the room.

"Don't worry Mycroft she got away. That American is CIA, he's on some anti terrorism mission. Completely different from ours." John took a deep breath. "Listen I don't know how this is going to go down, but if I don't return because they decided I was a liability because I'm in a flatshare with your brother. It was nice knowing you. Tell Sherlock he can have my laptop and I hid the emergency pack of cigarettes in a container labeled _peas_ , in the freezer. Also, remember what I said. That American is CIA you can use the threat of exposing him if he doesn't help you escape."

"John-" Mycroft cleared his throat. The door opened before the older man could continue.

"Doctor you done?" Toby growled. "Franks don't like to be kept waiting."

"Just remember what I told you." John locked eyes with Mycroft, and stood up to leave. "He has to keep those clean if he wants to keep the arm. Infections can be nasty things." John explained to an irritable Toby.

"Yeah, alright Doc I don't give a shit."

"Didn't think you would." John smiled tightly.

"Alright Doctor come with me." Franks lead John down a dimly lit corridor, a door to the left read OFFICE, and to John's surprise that's exactly what it was. Except a few high tech gadgets and a flat screen covering the wall to the left of a small oak desk. John flinched as the others filed in behind him.

"So John. I hope you understand but I have to run your prints. Just a routine background check. You shouldn't have anything to worry about, unless there's something you'd like to tell me." John kept his face completely blank, he shrugged.

"No. You pretty much know everything." There was no exit, John was trapped, he hoped the American would at least be persuaded to help Mycroft. Not likely, or the PA might have reached London by now, also not likely.

"Just put your hand on this for me." Franks held out something that looked like an ipad. The good Doctor did as he was told, John stared down at the small square device as it scanned his prints. He knew this was it. He was going to die, well it had been a fun couple years. Except maybe the three he thought Sherlock was dead.

"What in the bloody hell?" Franks growled.

John flinched, everyone was looking up at the flat screen. He could see his face then with the tap on the ipad like device Franks was pulling up his file a very confidential file, John wondered how that ipad could do that.

"John I had no idea." His old friend turned to him, John refused to look. "Says here you had an ASBO for destruction of property. Did you really beat up an anti war protester?" John held a tight smile. That screen was flipped like a page of a book and more information covered the screen including a newspaper article.

"Says Doctor John Watson formally of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers was acquitted on the murder of one Officer Anderson with the NSY. On lack of evidence. John-" Franks turned to look at his friend in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know I'm just as surprised as you. But that Anderson had it coming. Anyway that, could have been worse." John wondered how the hell Mycroft's people managed to swing that false background. And on less than four hours notice.

This had Sherlock written all over it, the Doctor tried steady his breathing. Of course this was Sherlock, the fake article was supposedly written by a Kitty Riley. Nice touch, and Anderson really, well that is almost believable. There were several occasions he'd imagined himself beating the loud mouthed idiot with his own forensics kit.

"Well with this I guess you cant be an undercover." Franks patted his friend on the shoulder. "This is a direct link into the Government data base. You would have to be a genius to alter those files."

John was very much aware of the fact that Morgan had been holding a 9mm on him. "Alright that's cleared up, lets get something to eat." Franks gestured for everyone to go, John and Tanner remained behind in the small office.

"You sir are one lucky bastard. I don't who you are associated with but they work quickly."

"Just remember the deal." John warned coolly. He waited for the CIA agent to leave first before switching on the Ipad hoping to get online, or something. No luck he decided he couldn't wait, he needed to get Mycroft out and now.

_**~0~** _

"Found it sir, just as you said." A government Analyst, simply going by Arthur turned in his swivel chair. Sherlock had been pacing angrily clutching a mobile, reading the cryptic texts that the PA had sent before Mycroft and her were abducted.

They'd taken refuge in an abandoned building that no one would think to look into, several security officers and the Analyst had "borrowed" equipment and in minutes they'd set up a makeshift command center.

The hacker Arthur couldn't be more than 25, he kept his dark hair a little longer, he was allowed a little more leeway due to the fact he worked as an Analyst, most likely locked away in some closet lined with computer screens.

So the young computer wiz was dressed casually, in a red t-shirt with a yellow lighting bolt in the middle. It was easy to deduce he wasn't a field agent or involved with the security department at all. Sherlock narrowed his eyes on the younger man, deducing that Arthur played WOW, and other online games, owned one goldfish, wasn't a smoker and wished he were taller. Not to mention he was adopted and had feelings for one of the other officers who at the moment was standing watch at the window. Ah ha, that was why he was here, he came on request. Sherlock could see the agent at the window was completely unaware of the Analysts crush. Sentiment. Dull.

The other members of their rogue band of agents, were placed in several vantage points around the property in case any visitors decided to sneak up on them.

"Where?" Sherlock growled.

"Hold on sir, the file was accessed but it's bouncing off several satellites, let me locate it."

"You're certain it's them."

"Who else would pull up a background check on one Captain Watson, John H."

"How long till we know?" Sherlock snapped his gray eyes narrowing on the laptop the boy had been tapping away on for the past hour.

"Damn I'm losing it!" Arthur was attempting to catch and hold the signal.

The consulting detective swore angrily, that had been their only hope at finding out where Mycroft would be.

After finding out just what army buddy John was meeting with, the younger Holmes had the hacker alter some information on his flatmate. It wasn't a guess, only a deduction. Sherlock didn't believe in coincidences.

Two trusted security officers basically Mycroft's glorified body guards had gone out to investigate "discreetly" the last place John's mobile signal had been active.

"Here come the boys." The agent at the window reported, he spoke into his headset. "And they've got someone with them."

Sherlock held his breath, three men entered followed by a very short and expressionless brunette in ripped stockings and muddied skirt suit.

"Report." She demanded and the men in the room were at attention, except for Sherlock.

"Where's John?" he demanded. "And my brother." Adding quickly.

"He is with Mycroft. Pretending to be a mercenary. He's not the best actor, so we need an extraction plan. I don't know how long they'll buy it. That and we need to know who's buying information, in the form of a six foot tall employee of the British Government."

"Ma'am there are only a handful of us." Thomson still dressed as delivery boy informed her quickly, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Yes, well get me a mobile." She demanded holding out her hand palm up.

"Sir! Got it." Arthur nearly squeaked. Sherlock looked at the satellite image of a shipping yard.

"Mr. Holmes. Where are you going?" Arthur called.

Receiving no reply, the PA still had her hand out for a mobile, the security officer at the window handed her his.

"Glad you're alive." he stated gruffly.

"Me too." Only Arthur noticed the way Agent A smiled slightly at Agent B. His heart sank a little.

"We can't let him go alone." Arthur protested pushing his own feelings aside, one of the more seasoned officers shook his head in agreement.

"I got it Artie. Besides I owe him." Thomson made to follow the younger Holmes. "Sir I'm going with you." Sherlock only gave the agent a curt nod.

"If you must."


	7. STAND

**CHAPTER 7. STAND**

John had resolved to get Mycroft out and out now. His plan was basically to run, then he'd figure something else out once they were far enough away. Hey, it worked for Doctor Who.

On his way to Mycroft's cell the lights in the compound went out, "Great what now?" The Doctor didn't wait he continued down the dark corridor, a sense of urgency propelling him into the dark.

"Oi! Watson!" Morgan growled. "Where the hell are you going?" John came up short, a beam from a flashlight blinding him.

"I don't know, I'm lost, get that damn light out of my eyes." He snapped.

"Oh, here, take this. Don't know what's going on could be a power outage or an attack." Morgan handed John the flashlight, producing another from his pocket. John allowed him to step in front of him, pretending to let him lead the way. This gave the blonde soldier the opportunity to bring the light down hard on the other man's head. John watched him go down, unconscious, he didn't bother to collect the man, emergency lights were up, and the corridors were dimly lit. John found Mycroft's cell unguarded, his adrenaline fueling him.

"Time to go." John went to help the older Holmes to his feet, pulling his hand back as if burned. Mycroft's skin was hot, "Mycroft?" John leaned over the sleeping man, he swore angrily. "Alright, no worries." He pulled Mycroft to his feet, the two teetered due to the height difference. "Lean on me," John instructed gently " that's it."

"Doctor Watson?" Mycroft murmured.

"It's alright Mycroft we're getting out of here."

"Why are the lights out?"

"I don't know and I really don't want to stick around to find out."

"It's bloody freezing in here." Mycroft winced as they stepped into the corridor. John didn't say anything the two made it to the end of the long hallway, stepping past the still unconscious Morgan. "You've been busy?"

"Well someone had to be, not all of us get to sit around sleeping." John tried to stay on his feet, Mycroft was getting heavier and heavier. He could see the man was losing strength and fast.

"At this rate we wont get far." Mycroft's voice was a hoarse whisper.

"If your next words are for me to _'just leave you here'_ just forget it. Never leave a man behind."

"Stubborn men you soldiers. Stubborn and brave."

"Well stubborn maybe, but I hear bravery is just a nice way to say stupid." Mycroft laughed softly and started to cough, this caused John more worry. He used the wall to support the two of them until the coughing fit ended.

"What the hell Watson?" Toby growled "What's he doing out?" The man's eyes fell on John's weapon. "You bastard-" He started to draw his own gun and John didn't wait he fired, dropping his flashlight. Toby didn't get a shot off, and John wasn't sorry to leave him bleeding in the corridor.

"Nice shot Doctor. And not that I'm ungrateful but I do think that gunfire will bring others to investigate."

"All the more reason to get the hell out." John hated to admit it but Mycroft was right, he should have thought of another way. _No time for regrets Watson time to move._

**~0~**

"That was quick." Thomson watched as the lights of the seemingly empty warehouse went out, the sun had started to go down. Both men were laying in the grass just behind one of the fences, the incline they were positioned on gave them a visual advantage.

"Indeed, your analyst is clearly proficient." The younger Holmes surveyed the area with his binoculars. The young computer analyst had texted Thomson identifying which one of the warehouses the signal had come from. As well as informing the agent that he could shut down the lights and most security systems. Now they had more of an advantage, Sherlock was planning his next move when he caught movement from the north side of the building.

It was John, and he was struggling to keep Mycroft on his feet. A smile spread over the consulting detectives face, relief it was relief that both his doctor and brother were in seemingly good condition. Mycroft did look injured and was unsteady on his feet, but he was alive.

"Let's get down there. I'll call it in." Thomson sent a quick text, as the younger Holmes shot to his feet, he was disappearing.

Sherlock wasn't going to wait he needed to be sure Mycroft was alright, that and he looked forward to the irritation Mycroft would feel at being rescued. Oh, how it would it enjoyable it would be to hold it over his brother's head possibly for months.

Then he heard it, gunfire, someone was shooting, he could make out the yelling.

"John? What the hell are you doing?" A male voice shouted. Sherlock peeked around the corner of an large cargo container. The man speaking wore beige khakis and a black t-shirt. _How cliché_.

"Put it down Franks I don't want to shoot you." John warned, and Sherlock knew this was the truth.

"Shoot me? What are you talking about? What's going on?" The mercenary was clearly confused.

"I said put it down!" John commanded.

"Are you double crossing me? Did he make you an offer? He's a liar you know! He gets in your head."

"Yeah, I know how he operates, after five years I should think I have a bit of an idea of how he works. Well-as much as an average bloke-"

"You know him? Do you work for him?" Franks demanded his face pinched in disbelief. Sherlock could see John was trying to buy his time, thinking of something he could do.

"No. Oh god no. I would never work for this man. No offense Mycroft."

"None taken." The taller Holmes replied coolly.

"Then-"

"You should have maybe kept in better touch friend." John replied unhappily. "It's a shame. You were a better man last I knew you."

"What the hell are you going on about? I haven't changed I've wised up!"

"Is that what you call being in league with terrorists? You're a mercenary mate, not even a soldier anymore."

"You're judging me? You, a run down civilian doctor?"

"I might just be a Doctor but at least I still have my integrity."

" Integrity? You call back stabbing a long time friend, a brother in arms? You call that integrity? You're betraying a friend? Where's the honor-"

"No Franks. This _**is**_ me saving a friend."

"What? He's not your friend he's incapable of making friends. I know how these government types work." Franks gritted his teeth his hand shaking.

"Clearly." Mycroft muttered. Franks eyes, narrowed on the taller man.

"Step aside John I don't want to shoot you."

"Stand down Franks! I don't want to shoot you either. But I will if you don't put the gun down." The icy tone and the steady hands should have been warning enough.

"He's a politician a liar. His lot starts the war that we grunts have to fight in. How many men did you lose Doctor? How many? Because of the decisions that man and his colleagues made."

"You've truly lost your mind Franks." The Doctor shook his head sadly.

"No I've never been more awake. Now it's not too late John. Just put it down. We can work something out."

"Afraid not." Sherlock had to interrupt, Mycroft was leaning almost entirely on the shorter Doctor. The consulting detective stepped out holding John's browning to the back of the mercenary's head.

"What the hell?" Frank cringed.

"You didn't really think you could kidnap my brother and my friend all in the same day and get away with it?" Sherlock's voice was casual as if talking about the weather. John couldn't help but grin, his eyes remained on the ex soldier, but he knew Sherlock would be smiling as well.

"Oh, Franks. Shame on me. I never got the chance to introduce you to my flatmate. Sherlock Holmes."

"Holmes." Franks sneered

"Yes. Like I said you really should have stayed in touch."

"Put it down or I will not hesitate to shoot you somewhere unpleasant." Sherlock made sure to press the cold weapon into the back of the man's head.

"Fine, fine." Franks let the gun fall to the ground.

John lowered his own, finally releasing the breath he'd been holding.

The sound of a helicopter nearing brought everyone's attention to the sky, Franks used the diversion to shove Sherlock from him escaping into a maze of shipment containers.

"Friends of yours?" John swore watching Franks disappear.

"No. I think it's time to go." Sherlock moved offering Mycroft a supportive arm around the waist. "Brother, I see the diet is back off."


	8. exhausting

 

**CHAPTER 8. Exhausting**

The helicopter was definitely a bad sign, the three didn't make it too much further before the exchange of gun fire.

"You've no where to go Watson! These men came for Holmes, and I believe they are a bit anxious to have both. So I guess I should thank you after all!"

John swore under his breath, his ex friend was shouting from somewhere near by, maybe two containers over to the left. The man's voice echoing off the empty shipping containers was making it hard to triangulate exactly. He strained hearing an echo yell for a cease fire.

"They are not going to chance hitting either of you with a stray bullet." John checked the weapon he held, counting the bullets.

"How many in yours?" Sherlock hadn't counted, John took the browning from him impatiently, cursing under his breath. "Take mine." He handed Sherlock the 9mm. "It has more bullets. Now you said you have a car?"

"Yes, John just a few more meters and-"

"Good. I want you to head in that direction, I'm going to draw fire." John kept his voice low.

"Absolutely not." Sherlock shook his head, but John wasn't paying attention.

"This isn't an option." John hissed.

"No!" Sherlock and John's voices echoed off the shipping containers. Loud enough for Franks to hear it. The two friend's maintained a hard stare waiting for the other to blink or submit first.

"Oh, I think you'll surrender soon enough, you're out gunned!" Franks laughed menacingly.

"This is not a debate. He needs medical attention, and you are going to get him out."

"John we all go or not at all." Sherlock protested.

"Sherlock, I'll be right behind you. Just get out of here and send in back up. I can handle a few idiots-"

"Idiots with guns John. I do respect your combat experience, but I can not in good-"

"Shut up. And listen because I'm only going to say this once. Head in that direction don't' stop! I'm going left they'll assume you're with me. I'm going to send them on merry little chase." John tried to peek around the containers he could see three men in all black holding AK's.

"Go." John growled and he fired several rounds at the men with the AK's, "Go!" He fired again, Sherlock and Mycroft started off towards the car.

John waited and headed around the back of another cargo container firing again. This caused the men to follow, the ex army doctor made as much noise as possible, in hopes that they'd keep following.

"John! I warned you! You're either one of them or one of us! You've picked your side now you'll have to live with it, or rather die with it!"

"Shut it Franks! You're an over dramatic fool! You wont get away with what you've done!" John pushed himself off of the metal wall he was currently leaned up against, making a hard sound just to draw more gunshots.

John didn't make it very far before someone tackled him, the two ex soldiers battled for the advantage.

"He's alone! It was a distraction! They're still out there! Franks yelled out." He sent a hard kick to John's side. "I'm going to kill you Watson and it's going to be slow."

John was pulled to his feet by two heavy handed men, and brought into the warehouse. "Now, now Doctor it's best to just admit defeat." Tanner's voice ground out, John frowned his eyes meeting that of the American's. The taller man only squeezed John's arm in reassurance.

"I don't know. I've never been one to give up easily." John tried to pull free.

"Franks! What the hell is going on?" John glared at the bulky man in the gray suit. The balding man had government written all over him, his beady rat like eyes moved from Franks to John. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Sir I can explain. This-" Franks was cut off by Tanner's quick explanation.

"Mr. Bishop sir! So glad you've showed up. That idiot there let the prisoner escape. He brought this one on and he turned out to be working with the prisoner. Makes wonder if he hadn't planned on screwing us all along!"

"Is this true? Where is Mycroft!?" John smiled hearing the mounting anger in the crooked government employee's voice.

"Long gone." John offered politely. Bishop glared down at John, his lips curling in a sneer.

"When he gets back to his men I suspect you'll be out of a job." John couldnt help but antagonize the man, he after was a traitor that tried to have Mycroft traded for money.

"Bishop I can-" Franks tried.

"Idiot! Mycroft got away?" Bishop roared.

"He can't have gone far, the man's injured." Franks continued to plead his case.

"For your sake I hope that's true." Bishop growled "Find HIM! I want him alive!"

"Sir the younger Holmes is also with him." One of Bishops men stated quickly.

"Oh, wonderful. He'll fetch a nice million euro's easy. I want him alive as well."

"And him?" Franks asked gesturing to John.

"You kill him." Bishop waved his hand "I don't care! Just bring me Mycroft Holmes."

Tanner stood beside John the other men were heading out, Bishop was on his mobile yelling in another language.

"The buyer isn't coming. This is your fault Doctor." Tanner grumbled.

"Maybe, but my guess is his number in on that mobile." John whispered his eyes watching Franks standing and waiting to speak to his boss.

"Yeah. I figured as much. So how do you want this to play out? Better think quick because Franks is going to kill you."

"Couldn't talk you into giving me your gun could I?"

"That's all you got?" Tanner groaned.

"Hey, I'll take any suggestions at this point."

"Watson. I'm going to make this hurt." Franks was nearing.

"Fine. Hit me." Tanner murmured low enough that only John could hear. No sooner were the words out of Tanner's mouth, a hard elbow clipped him under his left eye. The tall American fell back and John had the gun.

Franks dodged out of the path of John's aim. He fired back missing the Doctor by seconds. Bishop was too distracted by the battle outside, he couldn't tell who was shooting.

The government employee was swearing under his breath heading for another exit. John fired at him halting the man in his tracks, "Party has just started!" John panted. Franks fired hitting the wood crate just to the left of John's ear. He ducked and Bishop continued to run, Tanner followed tossing a worried glance back at John. John shook his head, urging him to go, he could take care of Franks at this point he owed the man.

_**~0~** _

It didn't take long for Mycroft's men to subdue Bishop's small band of hired guns. As soon as his brother was back to the black car, he demanded a mobile, Agent Thomson handed his over without hesitation, relieved to see his boss.

"Sherlock!" Thomson called out, "Let the others clear it out it's too dangerous."  
"John's still in there!" Sherlock yelled over his shoulder, he could still hear the echo of gunfire.

As he neared the source nearly out of breath he could hear the yelling as two ex soldiers traded fire.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to play out! You screwed me Watson! I'll kill you!"

"Oh, not like I haven't heard that threat before! I hear it at least three or four times a day! It's lost it's menace at this point!" John called back trying to get a good aim, unaware that his flatmate had circled around nearing his opponent. "Anyway I don't know what you're so worked up about! I was supposed to have coffee then go to work! Coffee and light bloody friendly conversation THEN WORK! Then you have to go and kidnap my best friend's older brother, who just happens to be the bloody British Government and on top of that your people ruined a GOOD TIE! It wasn't cheap!"

John realized somewhere at the end of his rant that there was no reply, no sound at all. The adrenaline that fueled him this whole time was starting to wear down.

"John?" Sherlock's voice rang in his ears.

"Sherlock? What the-" John stepped out to see his flatmate grinning down at an unconscious mercenary.

"Ready to go home?" John could have hugged his flatmate if it weren't for the fact they were being surrounded by Mycroft's men, ready to clear the area and pick up the prisoners. The two men made their way back to a car, John had a smirk on his face.

"What's so amusing Doctor Watson? John?" Sherlock was looking at his friend with concern now.

"Oh, yes. It's just been a very long day. And I'm really glad to see you." John frowned. "That and if I had made it to the café to have coffee with Franks. I would have told him about you, and your methods. He would have put one and one together. And then I'd be on my way none the wiser."

"Yes, but then he would have followed you home most likely shot you in an alley. Knowing you were too close to the problem to try and persuade you. He would have found through your discussion that you were still a man of honor. And an insurmountable supply of patience." John frowned at the last part, something in the way his friend was now holding a car door open for him. "Have I told you how patient and-"

"What did you break?" John slide into the seat. Just happy to be on his way home, looking forward to a hot cup of tea and crap telly.

 

THE END


End file.
